Promises
by TereT
Summary: Sam/Jack post Heroes, pt. 2. I wrote this as a Valentine's Day challenge immediately after Heroes, Pt. 2 aired, but it was never posted here. This is one of my favorite stories I've ever written, even all these years later.


TITLE: Promises

AUTHOR: Tere T (formerly Tere C)  
CATEGORY: S/J  
SPOILERS: Through Heroes Part 2

SEASON / SEQUEL: Season 7

RATING: G  
SUMMARY: Episode insert. After the memorial service.  
STATUS: Complete  
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The situations and original story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this immediately after Heroes Part 2 aired and posted it on a now-defunct Geocities webpage. It's been over eight years since this was written, and it still works for me as an insert. In the years since, I've divorced, changed my name, and returned to college full time to complete my bachelor's degree with a focus on professional writing. I also aspire to be a published fiction writer.

Rain dripped from her overcoat, leaving a trail of small puddles inside the door. Shaking her umbrella briefly over her front stoop, Sam Carter closed it and dropped it in the corner by the door. The military issue overcoat followed and she tossed her dress hat on the entry table with her keys. The chilly rain outside was a perfect end to a perfectly miserable day.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror over the entry table. Red rimmed eyes, red nose. Despite how she looked now, she'd held up remarkably well during the memorial service for her friend. But now. Sam closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

Her service dress uniform felt constricting. She made quick work of the buttons on her jacket while kicking off her leather pumps, then stripped off the blue inverted-V tie and unbuttoned the top three buttons of her dress blouse, splaying open the material so that she could feel the chilly air on her skin. When that didn't help, she gripped the edge of the table and bent forward, greedily sucking in air to quell her emotions. She'd cried enough over the past week.

A loud clap of thunder reverberated through the house nearly masking a knock at her door. She looked up and saw the distinctive crown of a dark blue Air Force hat through the small windows in the top of her door. _Great_. A quick swipe at her cheeks and another deep breath later, Sam opened the door, curling her toes as the rain puddles on the floor soaked through her stockings to the soles of her feet.

"Colonel," she acknowledged. His eyes warmed immediately when they met hers, and then flicked downward to the open neck of her blouse, noticing that she was out of uniform.

"I, uh," he stammered slightly then wet his lower lip before returning his gaze to her face. "May I come in?"

She nodded as she stepped back to allow him entrance, and he swept off his hat when he entered the foyer, careful to not let the water on its protective rain cover drip onto her uniform as he passed. "Let me take your coat."

"That's okay. I've got it," he said. Jack placed his hat beside hers on the entry table and then hung his overcoat on the coat rack by the door. His eyes darted to her coat crumpled in a wet heap on the floor but he said nothing. Instead, he just stood there, an uneasy tenseness at his mouth, and stared at her, searching her eyes as if looking for some clue as to how she was coping.

Uncomfortable with the intensity of the silence, Sam tried a weak smile, self-consciously touching her hand to the bare skin exposed at her open collar. "I was just about to change. Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"Got a beer?"

"There may be one in the fridge. I haven't been here much this week—I don't really remember what I'd left in there before . . ." Sam's voice faded. She cleared her throat and looked away from him, taking another deep breath.

He lightly touched her sleeve. "Go. Get changed. I'll see what I can find in your kitchen." She nodded. Sighing softly, she left him alone and went to her room.

Sam changed into a worn, oversized Air Force Academy sweatshirt and a pair of old, faded-out jeans. One of the knees was torn out, but she didn't care. They were comfortable and warm and familiar and that's what she craved.

When she rounded the hallway to her living room, Sam found Jack's dress jacket draped over the back of a barstool, the tail of his tie leaking out of one of the pockets, and Jack behind the bar in the kitchen, slicing through a tall, thick sandwich with one of her large kitchen knives. The top button of his shirt had been opened to reveal his t-shirt underneath and his white shirtsleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. She watched quietly as he placed each half of the sandwich on separate plates that were already garnished with a pickle spear.

"Hey. I see you found stuff in the fridge."

Jack looked up from his task to give her a half-smile. "Actually, I cheated. I'd stopped by a deli on the way home and had this in the truck. I, uh, just didn't make it home."

He sat a plate on the bar in front of her before reaching for his open bottle of beer and taking a long swig from it. "I did find this in the fridge, though. And I thought you might like this," he said, passing a glass of chilled wine to her with his other hand. "You had white zinfandel in the door."

Their fingers brushed softly when she accepted the glass. "Thanks." She closed her eyes and sipped the cool, sweet liquid.

"So, where's Cassie?"

"I dropped her off at Dominic's house."

"Is that wise?"

"His parents were there. I spoke with them for a moment when I left her. They said they'd help in any way they could. Dominic's going to bring her home in a few hours." Sam took another sip of wine. "I think she needed him more right now than she needs me."

Jack nodded but said nothing. Instead, he took his plate and beer into the living room and sank down onto her sofa. Sam followed, her bare feet padding lightly on the hardwood floor. She sat sideways to face him on the other end of the sofa, tucking a leg beneath her and placing her plate on the cushion between them.

He'd sat his sandwich untouched on the coffee table. She didn't blame him. Food really hadn't been her top priority either. When she tried to eat, the meal sat like cold stones in her stomach.

Rain pattered against her windows, punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder, as she sipped her wine while he nursed his beer. Neither spoke, so she took the opportunity to really look at him for the first time since he'd left the infirmary. His hair seemed more silvery and his face paler than usual. Maybe that was because of the stark white shirt or even because of the injury he'd sustained, but Sam believed it was more because of the emotional toll they'd all paid this week.

"So," Jack began softly, "how are you doing? You left the base without saying anything."

"I couldn't—I had to leave."

"You did a fine job up there. What you said."

"Thank Teal'c. They were his words. I couldn't do it. She was my best friend, and I couldn't come up with the words."

"They weren't just his words, Carter. They were all our words, what you said. We all felt like that about what Fraiser did." Jack put the bottle to his lips and took a small swallow. "Have you talked with Pete?"

She pursed her lips tightly before answering. "No. I, uh, we haven't spoken much since he went back to Denver. Conflicting schedules and all. I didn't want to bother him." It wasn't entirely true, but it was as good an excuse as any. "How's Daniel holding up?" she asked.

"I don't know. He's been scarce. He's not who I've been worried about."

She looked down at her glass and felt tears begin to sting her eyes again. "Oh."

Jack moved her plate next to his on the coffee table. Sitting back, he shifted his position slightly, draped his arm across the back of the sofa, and then looked at her; the invitation in his eyes more than apparent. Slowly, she settled next to him, her head resting against his shoulder, his hand curling around her upper arm in an easy caress.

"I don't know what to do about Cassie. I can't replace Janet," she finally said.

"No one's expecting you to, least of all Cassie."

"She's not much older than I was when I lost my mom."

"You said it yourself. Cassie's a strong girl." His breath ruffled Sam's hair as he spoke. "And she's not doing this alone. Neither are you."

"But," she let out a shuddering sigh, "Who's going to take care of her when I don't come back?"

"Cassie has always known what the risk for all of us was. We all know the possibilities with what we do, and Fraiser's no different." Jack paused to take a swallow of his beer. "Carter, the future isn't guaranteed. Not for any of us."

"Don't you think I know that? But that's not the hardest part," Sam said as she raised her head to look at him. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. "My best friend died. I knew that when Daniel was screaming for help-I could hear it in his voice all the way through the radio-and I couldn't care. I couldn't care about losing her because I thought I'd lost you. I kept praying, 'God, don't let me lose him' while she lay dying. What kind of person does that make me?" she sobbed.

Jack pulled her into an embrace and held while she cried. Her arm clutched his shirt at his shoulder while she tucked her face against the crook of his neck.

He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, but he just held her tighter to him and whispered softly to her, "It's okay, Sam. I'm okay," again and again until her sobs began to subside. "You have nothing to feel guilty about for what happened to Fraiser. I know she wouldn't want you beating yourself up over it either."

He felt her nod her head against his throat, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. "Okay, now, please, stop crying? I don't think my shirt can handle much more."

She giggled into his collar. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I'm sure it'll dry out by some time next week."

Another giggle. "Damn you, I don't want to laugh."

"Here I thought that was part of my charm-my ability to make you laugh."

Sobering, Sam raised her head to meet his warm brown eyes, her lower lip quivering. "It's one of many things I would have missed about you."

Jack gently rubbed his thumb across her cheek, catching a lingering tear, his eyes never leaving hers. The urge to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him, but he knew that if he did neither of them would be able to stop. They were both too raw, feeling too much, and regardless of the real world consequences, he didn't want her to remember anything they might do in connection to Fraiser's death. He rested his head against hers briefly, still cupping her cheek with his hand, before pulling away. "I . . . I should probably go before . . ."

"I know," she whispered. "I just wish."

"What?"

"Could you just hold me for a while?"

Jack sighed softly then settled back into the sofa, propping his feet on the edge of the coffee table. "Yeah. I can do that." She snuggled next him, his arm again draped around her shoulders, and she tucked her head under his chin. "I can stay for as long as you need me, Sam. I promise."

_Two weeks later._

Sam exited the elevator and hurried down the corridor to her lab. SG-9 had found an alien device overnight that she was eager to review. Daniel had been on base when SG-9 returned and had been so excited about something he'd translated on the thing that he'd called her at home to tell her about it. At two a.m. Wanting her to get to her lab as soon as she could.

She smiled remembering his barely-contained enthusiasm. It was the most animated he'd been since Janet's death. She'd hated reminding him that she couldn't just rush down to her lab. Cassie had moved in at least until decisions about her future could be made. Sam had responsibilities now that were full-time away from her life's work. And for her late friend's sake, she intended to be there for Cassie.

Turning on the light, Sam went to her lab table to see what Daniel had left for her. In the middle was an odd-shaped black device that appeared to be obsidian with faint carvings down one side. She pulled out her chair to sit down while examining the thing and found something else. On the seat of her chair was a cellophane bag of _Dove_ dark chocolate _Promises_.

She looked around the room to see if anyone was there before moving the surprise. Under the bag of red foil-wrapped chocolates was a folded note.

_Carter,_

_Just to be sure you don't forget, here's a bagful of Promises from me. There's always more from where these came. All you have to do is ask. _

_ Happy Valentine's Day,_

_ O'Neill_


End file.
